


Jack's Friend

by K_Hanna_Korossy



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-17 00:49:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5847436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_Hanna_Korossy/pseuds/K_Hanna_Korossy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teal'c is uncertain of his place among the Tauri, until O'Neill offers him a position.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jack's Friend

 

First published in  _New Worlds & False Gods 3 _(2000)

 

Teal’c wasn’t blind or deaf. He’d heard the whispers, seen the looks from nearly the first day he’d arrived at the SGC, a traitor to his “god” and people, a stranger to those he’d allied himself with. Homeless, having sacrificed all for his beliefs. He had not expected the Tauri to welcome him with open arms, nor had the suspicion surprised him--traitors always made both sides wary. But the suspicions and dislike hadn’t faded with time. Teal’c never mentioned it to anyone--what good would come of that?--but it left even more isolated in this new world he now called home.

Not that everyone treated him so, naturally. SG-1 had long taken him as part of the team, to the point that Teal’c was surprised to find he considered them all...friends. It was a new concept; a first prime did not make friends. Teal’c had had no equal in Apophis’ service, only underlings, and they were never to be socialized with. That was just the way things were and he’d never thought to question it. But in SG-1, he was the equal of Captain Carter and Daniel Jackson, and even O’Neill their leader was not superior or separate. In fact, in many ways O’Neill had become Teal’c’s closest friend of all.

And there were others, too, Captain Makepeace and a few of his team, one or two from the other SG teams, who spoke to him without prejudice. But not many.

Again, it was just the way things were. Except this time Teal’c didn’t even know _what_ they were or how he fit in with them.

Which was why it was no real surprise that he alone was left, besides the skeleton staff that had stayed behind with the Stargate, while everyone else had gone for a holiday. Thanksgiving Day, Daniel Jackson had called it, describing to Teal’c the history of the holiday and the God to whom they were giving thanks, a true God. And then the archaeologist left to celebrate it with the elderly sister of his grandmother. Captain Carter had departed around the same time, intending to visit her brother. Even O’Neill had finally disappeared, Teal’c wasn’t sure where to but no doubt having some family to be with. With Teal’c’s only family far away on Chulak, that left him with a quiet, empty weekend of meditation and television on the base, alone. He was not sentimental about this holiday he’d never known, but he usually had no time to give much thought to what he missed. Now, the little activity and the emphasis on a time of home and family was a keen reminder of his lack of place in or connection to this strange world.

Disturbed by the thought, Teal’c settled himself on his bed, sitting crosslegged as he worked to clear his mind and relax.

The sudden knock at the door just as quickly ruined any attempt.

“Come,” Teal’c called, the surprise no doubt clear in his voice. He knew none of the staff who had stayed behind to man the gate--who would bother him?

The door opened, and O’Neill’s head appeared around the doorway, a familiar wry grin on his face. It faltered a little at seeing the Jaffa. “Hey, Teal’c. ‘M I interrupting you? I could come back when you’re not, uh...” he waved vaguely at Teal’c’s pose.

Teal’c’s expression relaxed at the pleasure of seeing his friend. “It is of no consequence. I was merely occupying my time.” He raised an eyebrow. “I had believed that you had gone to spend the holiday with your family. Did you return for something you had left behind?”

“Uh, well...” The colonel stood all the way inside the door now, scratching the back of his head with one hand. “Not exactly. I never left.”

Teal’c’s other eyebrow went up. “Indeed?”

“Yeah. Look,” O’Neill hurried on, “if neither of us is doing anything anyway, whaddaya say we go do it together? It’s not exactly a home-cooked meal with Ma and Pa, but there’s a diner down the road that serves a pretty mean turkey with gravy.”

Teal’c was already rising and gathering some of the clothing he wore in his infrequent trips off base. “What is a turkey and why is it preferable for it to be mean?” he asked curiously, looking up at his friend.

O’Neill had slouched comfortably in the doorway to wait for him and now gave Teal’c a wary look. “I thought Daniel told you all about Thanksgiving.”

“Daniel Jackson talked of a Governor Bradford, and Squanto and Samoset and the people of--”

“Never mind.” O’Neill was shaking his head. “Daniel talks too much. All you have to know about Thanksgiving is that people get together and eat too much turkey and then watch football games the rest of the day--we’ll do that later. I’ll wait outside ‘til you’re ready.” He shut the door.

Teal’c dressed quickly, but as he left his room and fell into step with O’Neill, he reflected that he still didn’t know what a turkey was.

 

“Now _that’s_ a turkey,” O’Neill said cheerfully.

Teal’c studied the garish drawing of an ungainly, rather stupid-looking animal that was pasted in the window of the eating establishment in front of them. At least, he assumed it was an animal. Although it didn’t appear at all mean.

O’Neill was looking at him, clearly seeing that the matter was not yet clear. “It’s a _bird_ , Teal’c,” he elaborated in exaggerated tones. “A lot like chicken. It’s tradition to eat turkey on Thanksgiving.”

“I see,” Teal’c said, not quite assuredly.

O’Neill nudged him with an elbow. “Trust me, it’s good. C’mon.”

The “diner” was indeed not far from the base, not more than a 20-minute drive, and it sat alone by the road, several vehicles of all sizes parked in front of it. O’Neill had done most of the talking on the way there, filling the quiet with discussion of unimportant matters in a way that was not characteristic of him. Teal’c had merely sat and listened, thinking.

O’Neill now led the way through the door and into the small building. Inside, several tables lined the windowed wall, several more along the walls at both ends, and a long counter ran the length of the building in the middle of the room with seats also lined up along its edge. A few customers sat in various places, mostly single men of about O’Neill’s age, and one couple who had skin tone and facial features similar to Lt. Watamura from SG-6. No one looked up as they came in except for a female older than Captain Carter with the same colored hair, who gave them a smile as she wiped the counter. Her striped blouse and skirt and the overlying white apron seemed to be a uniform of some sort and Teal’c gathered she was a worker at the diner.

“Hey, Jack! Where ya been? I thought you’d forgotten all about me.”

The woman’s voice was loud but friendly, and Teal’c studied both her and O’Neill with curiosity. Either O’Neill came there often or else he was familiar with the woman from elsewhere.

O’Neill was also grinning, spreading his arms with a shrug. “You know me, Dana, always goin’ out on some mission, seeking out new lifeforms and new civilizations, boldly going where no man’s gone before.” His grin became sly even as Teal’c stared at him in concerned confusion.

The woman just laughed. “Have a seat and I’ll join ya in a minute.” She waved at the empty tables.

O’Neill went to the one in the corner, sitting with his back to the wall and facing the door. Teal’c followed, sliding into the smooth red seat across from him. “Is it wise to tell those outside the SGC that we are seeking out other races and civilizations?” he asked quietly.

O’Neill looked at him in surprise, then suddenly grinned and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Teal’c, she doesn’t know what we do--probably wouldn’t believe me if I told her. It’s just a game we play.”

“I see,” Teal’c said, though he did not.

“We’ve gotta introduce you to Star Trek,” O’Neill muttered half to himself as the woman--Dana--came up to them, leaving the Jaffa as unenlightened as ever.

“Who’s your friend?” Dana asked, pointing a pen in Teal’c’s direction. A very direct female indeed. His eyebrow rose at the question and he was about to answer when O’Neill spoke.

“He’s one of the guys on my team, kinda new to the area. Never had a Thanksgiving dinner before, can you believe it?”

The woman shook her head with all the appearance of sympathy. “And he has to have his first one here. Jack, you’re a wicked man.”

Jack leaned toward Teal’c. “Don’t listen to her--this place has the best turkey and mashed potatoes you ever tasted.”            

That meant nothing to Teal’c but he nodded once.

“What’ll it be, gentlemen?” Dana asked, relaxing her stance as she held the pen over her pad of paper, poised to write. “Two turkey dinners?”

O’Neill glanced up at him and Teal’c looked back impassively--was he expected to say anything? Usually his friends chose to do most of the talking in his place. Teal’c approved; he was very often unclear what was the appropriate thing to say, and even when he believed he knew, it often turned out wrong.

O’Neill wasn’t waiting on him, though, already taking matters into his own hands as he turned back to the woman with a smile. “Sounds great. Heavy on the gravy and no carrots.” He gave a mock shudder.

“No carrots for you, either, mister?” The woman was speaking to him now, the pen again pointed at him. Teal’c knew what a carrot was from the commissary at the SGC and he favored the orange vegetable, but perhaps O’Neill knew something of the carrots here that he did not.

“No,” he said.

“Okay.” She wrote something on her pad. “Drinks?”

“Beer,” O’Neill said promptly, then eyed Teal’c again. “Uh, better bring him a root beer.”

The woman smiled as she wrote. “Big talker, your friend,” she addressed O’Neill.

“I am not,” Teal’c corrected her seriously.

Her smile only grew. “Whatever, honey. If you’re Jack’s friend, you’re okay in my book.” And she winked before turning and walking into the back of the diner, disappearing from sight.

O’Neill was also grinning, and he jerked his head toward the retreating woman. “Don’t mind her--she’s not used to visitors from other planets.”

Teal’c merely raised an eyebrow and chose not to comment. Instead, he said, “She appears to know you well.”

“Who, Dana?” O’Neill seemed almost surprised by the comment. “I come out here every once in a while to eat, get away from the base. Sometimes it’s kinda nice to be around people who aren’t in uniform, y’know?”

Teal’c did. But it wasn’t exactly what he’d been thinking of. “You do not go home to see your family?” Their quarters at SGC were only for when they didn’t have time to go home or were there at odd hours. Teal’c had noticed that most of the staff and SGC team members, including Captain Carter and Daniel Jackson, often left the base to spend time in their own homes. O’Neill did far less often.

The older man’s face clouded at the question, and Teal’c instantly regretted his forwardness. “Not much family out there to go home to,” he said tightly. “None that wants to see me, anyway. Charlie’s gone and Sara...” He stared out the diner window, the sentence obviously one he didn’t intend to finish.

Teal’c nodded minutely. “I ask your forgiveness. I did not wish--”

O’Neill interrupted him with a wave of the hand. “Forget it. Ancient history.”

How ancient could anything be within a human’s lifespan, Teal’c wondered, especially something that still caused such obvious pain? But he said nothing.

“So,” O’Neill suddenly spoke up with renewed, deliberate cheerfulness. “What does your family do during holidays on Chulak? Any big dinners where everyone gets together to drive each other crazy?”

Teal’c’s eyebrow went up again. “There are feasts whenever the god returns, when there is a mating or a birth, or at the end of the season of harvest. All who are in that place gather to celebrate together.”

“Really big dinners, huh?” O’Neill said with a grimace. “Sounds terrific.” Though he did not seem to really think so. Teal’c wondered at the paradox; his friend seemed to both regret not having a family to share the holiday with and at the same time be disdainful of the entire tradition. Perhaps it was possible to convince yourself you did not like that which you did not have?

The back doors opened again and the woman appeared bearing a large, laden tray. She brought it over to their table and immediately began unloading it, placing a steaming plate of food in front of each of them, followed by a smaller plate of bread, another of salad, and a full glass. Teal’c eyed his with stoic curiosity--root beer? The name was similar to that of the alcoholic beverage that O’Neill and Daniel Jackson both enjoyed when not at the base, but O’Neill knew that the Jaffa did not drink the alcoholic beverages of the planet.

Dana finished serving them, gave them both a grin that O’Neill returned, and went off to speak to another customer.

Instead of starting to eat, though, O’Neill was still, eyes first on the food, then on Teal’c. “Uh, I guess this is the part where we’re supposed to pray.”

Teal’c looked at him with some surprise--he had never known O’Neill to be a particularly religious man. “As you wish,” he simply said, and watched as O’Neill grimaced and awkwardly bowed his head. Whatever prayer he said must have been quick and private, for a moment later he was finished, reaching for his utensils.

“Looks great--Pete here’s a good cook. C’mon, dig in before it gets cold.”

Teal’c silently began to eat. The...turkey did taste much like chicken, and the white mounds next to it with the brown sauce over them were also quite good. Some of the other foods he could identify even less, but ate them all with good appetite except for the orange mound. Too sweet for his taste, he would know in the future to avoid it, but it was imprudent to waste food and so he ate that as well. As for the root beer, O’Neill had remembered. The bubbles were like the “soda” that Daniel Jackson once had Teal’c try, not much to his taste, but the flavor itself was good, reminiscent of a drink from his home. One also made of roots, as a matter of fact, as this one seemed to be.

O’Neill ate a little more slowly than Teal’c usually saw him, but he was the one keeping up most of the light conversation, too. The bulk of it inconsequential but every once in a while there was an aside about family holidays of the past or something else that Teal’c found equally enlightening. He answered where appropriate, but mostly just listened closely as his friend talked.

Teal’c finished his meal a little before O’Neill, but soon the older man was also pushing back his empty plate with a satisfied sigh. “Now that’s what I call a dinner. What’d ya think about the turkey, Teal’c?”

“It is good,” Teal’c nodded slightly. “I believe I prefer chicken but I have enjoyed this holiday meal, O’Neill.”

O’Neill’s face softened into a real grin, the first relaxed look Teal’c had seen him give all day. “Yeah, it’s really not that bad, is it. Lucky you--if Carter had dragged you along to her family shindig--three kids, a grandmother, aunts and uncles, and a dog--well, trust me, it wouldn’t’ve been pretty.” He stared out the window at the slowly setting sun, suddenly subdued. “Guess we should head on back.”

“To watch the games on television that you spoke of.”

O’Neill lit with enthusiasm again. “Football, Teal’c. The all-American game.” He motioned to Dana. “Sacks, tackles, touchdowns--you’re gonna love it.” The woman came over and gave him a piece of paper Teal’c assumed to be the bill when O’Neill pulled out his money and gave her some. By the look on her face, the Jaffa assumed it was handsome payment, too.

“You come back soon, Jack hon, and you, too, Jack’s friend.” This time she winked at Teal’c before turning on her heel and walking off.

_Jack’s friend._ Teal’c had had different titles in his life, during his ascension through Apophis’ ranks and finally as first prime, and eventually as a member of SGC. But never a private one like this. It...felt good. O’Neill was in many ways as alone as he, but together they had found a place.

O’Neill was oblivious to his thoughts, though, already expounding on the finer points of “football” as he stood and threw a companionable arm around Teal’c’s shoulders. “First we gotta pop some popcorn, though. And pick up some corn chips. You can’t have football without snacks.”

It didn’t seem to matter to him that they’d just eaten, but his enthusiasm was catching. As wonderful as this football sounded, Teal’c was greatly looking forward to seeing it. It seemed like a thing that friends enjoyed.

“...And then there’re the cheerleaders--I hope Dallas is playing tonight...”

Teal’c listened contentedly all the way back to the base.

The End


End file.
